


Eyes

by ttme123



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Dark Past, don't worry the OC isn't a mary sue, she doesn't even have a name, she's like only there to talk about link lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3464711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttme123/pseuds/ttme123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His eyes, they were blatantly observant, anyone could see that. They were watchful. They were tired but intelligent, and there was a remnant of happiness, left from long ago. Most of all, hidden, but obvious both on his face and posture, they were haunted. Rated T for language mostly.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rather old fic that I originally posted on ff.net. I only recently (yesterday) made an AO3 account so I'm moving everything over. I'm not sure in which Zelda game this takes place, so I guess it's up to you.

His eyes, they were blatantly observant, anyone could see that, but observant didn't quite describe the way they. . . . took in everything in a cautious kind of way. They were watchful. But more than just that, they had other things hiding behind the surface, things that were hidden from view. They were tired but intelligent, and there was a remnant of happiness, left from long ago. Most of all, concealed, but obvious both on his face and posture, they were haunted. With no clue as to why such a young, handsome man should look so worn and weary, I decided to do a bit of watching myself.

As he walked, he held himself the way a confident young man should, but, even as good as he was, he had clearly been through much. There was no hiding that. He had an air of power around him, dampened by his sad, sorrowful eyes. If I had not been looking I might have thought him a regular man who was having a bad day. But I had been watching. I could tell that today wasn't a bad day for him, or at least not compared to trying events in his past. A terrible day for a regular person would probably be an exceptionally nice day for him. But this is all guessing. Educated guessing. He tries to hide his pain, but it is a pain so great that others, even the strongest of others, would likely have been crushed long ago.

  
Now thoroughly interested, I follow him, several groups in between us. Trying to avoid discovery, I make sure to occasionally stop and look at something, or drift off, so as not to not appear suspicious. As he subtly does a scan of the street, he seems to linger on me, studying me longer than others. Strike one—if he does something like that again then I’ll have to leave. I drift to the left, joining a small group of people waiting to purchase some food from the merchant. I hover there for a couple of seconds, waiting until I know he should be far enough ahead. I look from the corner of my eyes, scanning the groups I had been walking behind, searching for him but not finding him.

  
As I turn to rejoin the group and continue my attempts to find him, I find myself being swiftly jerked to the side and down an ally and held up against a wall. Wow, I'm getting rusty. I squint, the person—a man—if the feel of his—hands mean anything, hidden in the shadows, whereas I am standing in a slightly lighter spot where the sunlight hits the wall a few feet above my head.

  
“Don’t try anything, I’m a sheikah, you know.” Only kind of a lie. I’m of Sheikah descent, and I've had some training, just not the rigorous training of a sheikah warrior. Lost in my train of thought, I really _am_ getting rusty, I missed whatever he—definitely a he—had said.

  
“What?”

He growls, and I can practically _feel_ him glaring at me. He grinds his teeth before continuing in a… an almost worried tone. “Why were you watching me?"

I gulp. Is this… him? Even sheikah training wouldn't win a fight against him.  
“Wh-who…” I take a deep breath and try again. “Who are you?”

He sighs and releases some of his weight holding me against the wall. “You know exactly who I am.”

And I do. In the loosest sense possible, I do. At the very least, I know it was the man in the green, the one with the interesting eyes. “I… You were interesting,” I start out loudly, the switch to a murmur when he adds some more pressure with his hands.

  
“Damn it!” He pushes off the wall and walks a few paces away, the light from the wall giving me a chance to see him better. He looks even better up close—nice, toned body, strong arms, soft blond hair, and bright blue eyes. He begins pacing in a small circle, giving me an opportunity to make a getaway. Upon seeing this (Goddesses know how), his head shoots up and he gives me a paralyzing glare. “Don’t,” and I don’t. I stand there for what feels like ages but what must only be minutes or possibly seconds as he fumes to himself. When he stops and looks at me, it’s kinder than ever before, but that isn't saying much. It is still a stony, stoic glare, but not one of hatred or distrust.

  
“What made me interesting? Enough for you to blatantly gawk at me?”

  
“Well, I wouldn't say _blatantly_ but—“ He cuts me off with a glare, and I continue. “It was just that you … had a sort of… aura. You felt really powerful, I guess.” I told the truth, but not all of it. What originally caught my eye was his eyes.

  
“What do you mean, aura of power?” He grunts taking a step towards me. Upon seeing him approach, I squeeze up against the wall, regardless of the fact that he is still at least two and a half feet away.

  
“You just looked like there was more to you,” I look at him, trying to judge his reaction. He growls and takes another step towards me. “I don’t think anyone else noticed!” I shout quickly, squeezing my eyes shut and turning my head to the side, almost as if trying to melt into the wall. He stands right above me, I cower down, trying to become as small as possible. He raises an eyebrow. “Please don’t hurt me,” I whimper, looking up at him and feeling like a tiny insignificant bug under the mercy of a petty gardener’s boot, begging to be spared but not even heard, much less spared a second thought.

Maybe this whole 'terrified innocent girl' act will work on him.

  
Suddenly, he starts laughing. I allow one eye to open, looking at him to see what the laughing meant, all traces of the stubborn, defiant me gone. I glance at him, prepared to duck or dodge or do whatever is needed to escape, but he is smiling. His laugh is not that of an evil sadist about to inflict harm on a defenseless girl; it is of a man who finds something extremely hilarious and absurd.

  
I open both eyes, gawking at his sudden change in attitude, unafraid, but still ready to flee. Thoughts drift through my head, keeping me on my toes. _Is he mad? Maybe this is an act to catch me off guard. As soon as I so much as blink he’ll pounce, slicing my head off with that sword of his._

  
He catches me staring and calms down, his laugh turning into a mere chuckle. He looks at me honestly now, a true smile on his face. A true, honest, _beautiful_ smile lighting up his features, changing him from a hardened warrior to a charming young man. “I’m sorry for frightening you; it’s just force of habit,” he explains gently. And there it is, the past I had wondered about, had _seen_ in his eyes is shining through. Not wanting to reveal so much I say what I’m sure he was expecting to hear.  
“How can that be a habit?”

He looks at me, his smile now half a smile and half a smirk and turns, walking into the darkness of the alley.

“Don’t play stupid."

**Author's Note:**

> Please review and leave kudos if you enjoyed!


End file.
